Days of Thunder
by Krisian Rose
Summary: Sequel to "Invisibilty." CHAPTER 8 - A werewolf rampant... not a good thing.
1. Attacked

A/N: Now, this would be the sequel to my LXG fic _Invisibility._ If you haven't read that one, you are going to get very, _very_ confused. So, go read it first. And, just because I can, I'm gonna start this fic off with some responses to the reviews I got at the end of _Invisibility._ Also, the **_DTG _**fic will come, I swear, but I'm not feelin' it at the moment, so it'll just have to be put on hold. Sorry. We can still torture Davis though!

**morph – **Chemistry exam, eh? I still say a Pre-Calculus exam would be worse. Death by derivatives!

**Steffi – **Heart-warming _and _adrenaline pumping? All those compliments and nothing dirty – I think I have finally hauled your mind out of the gutter!

**Lily Bengal – **Don't be mad. It's not _over _per say…

**elven-emma – **Yes. 'Twas a bittersweet ending.

**Cecily – **You could _smell _my sequel? Wow, you have the mutant ability of cyber-scent… or something.

**schizomaniax – **Whaddya mean "er – sorta"? You have to think of the era we're in and what is considered "appropriate" for courting a lady. Skinner is, after all, a _gentleman _thief. Oh, and as for that commercial, I think it was road kill something-or-others.

**funyun – **I think you may be right. Tom is too normal to hook up with any of the League chicks. Hm… perhaps he will find a girlfriend now… or not. Ya never know.

**LotRseer3350 – **Thanks. I have issues with finishing things. Just ask my editor/friend Lily.

**Lady Moon3 – **Frody and Sammy? Hehehe! That was amusing. Seeing actual sunlight? Are you like, a vampire or something?

**Fritz Will Get You – **I really hate to sound naïve, but what on God's green earth is an Alegria Angel?

**Niani – **You love Davis? I guess that makes you an anti-**_DTG_**-er. Oh well.

**Hoshii-chan – **Yup. You were like the bazillionth person to ask for a sequel.

**Mwpp-lover – **First off, what does the "Mwpp" in your penname stand for? Second off, thank you muchly for reading my stuff and putting me in your fic. [Pay me, I'm Attention! Hehehe!]

**_Disclaimer: _**Wow, finally. I thought I'd never get this far. Oh, right… I don't own the League, but I do own a couple of characters! They would be Cabrilyn and Davis, and someone new that I don't feel like telling you about yet. Hehehe!

* * *

            A full moon loomed over London, illuminating the city in an eerie, pale glow. On the London docks sat a house long thought deserted. It was a stately manor that rang of elegance and, at the same time, it was foreboding and mysterious. This was the home of Dorian Gray. Now, though, it was the current domicile of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. At the first mention of staying in Dorian's home as they had before, Dorian put up quite a protest…

            "No. It is _my _house. It is where _I _eat, where _I _sleep, where _I_ live, and I am not about to have the lot of you in it!"

            Mina had merely smirked at him and responded with, "Dorian, you _don't_ eat, you _don't _sleep, and you _don't _live. We're staying in your house."

            That had been that. Dorian had resigned to letting them stay, since there was no real way to stop them anyway. Currently, Dorian was in the library, inspecting the new battle scars left there by Sanderson Reed's men. Dr. Jekyll sat in one of the chairs, reading one of the few books that didn't have bullet holes in it. Dorian's scoff broke the silence, "I leave for a few months and the whole place goes to ruin."

            Jekyll looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow at the immortal. "As I recall, none of us, yourself included, believed you would be returning."

            Dorian chose to ignore the doctor's remark and pretended to be inspecting one of the bookcases. Jekyll shrugged and went back to his reading, which was soon interrupted again by the noise of a table being upturned. The doctor looked up from his book again to find a set of Sawyer's clothes floating in mid-air. "Hello Davis," the doctor sighed.

            "Oh God," Dorian said. "Not you. Can't you cause damage somewhere else?"

            Had Davis' face been visible, Dorian would've seen the dirty look Davis was giving him. "Beg pardon, Mr. Gray," Davis replied, picking up the table he'd run into. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

            "I'm sure you didn't," the immortal replied sarcastically.

            After righting the table, Davis had decided he wasn't welcome in the library, just like he hadn't been welcome in the dining room, where Sawyer had kicked him out. He would find some place else to go – hopefully someplace vacant where no one could yell at him for being a clumsy fool. He meandered to the stairs, careful not to run into any furniture, and was about to head off to what he presumed was the den, when he heard something – scratching. Something was scratching at the front doors. The invisible man moved closer and carefully opened the small sliding door to look outside, expecting to find a stray dog, or even a cat.

            Suddenly, a massive clawed paw shot through the opening. Davis jumped back, and managed to fall flat on the floor, just before the claws ripped his face of. Fierce barking and growling drowned out Davis' cries of alarm. At the noise, Jekyll came rushing up from the library, and Tom from the dining room. The whatever-it-was outside was trying to break the rest of the way through the door, and had now managed to work its entire arm in through the opening. The wood groaned and cracked under its weight. Tom drew his pistols and fired a shot, hitting the dark furred arm. There was a howl of pain and the arm disappeared back from where it came.

            Tom threw the doors wide, meaning to pursue whatever-it-was, but he found only a vacant street. The creature was gone.

* * *

            "It reached right through the blasted door! Nearly tore my face off!"

            "Nearly? Pity," Skinner said.

            "Skinner," Mina reprimanded. She took a seat next to Jekyll at Dorian's dining room table – the only place in the whole house, save the library, which could accommodate the entire League comfortably. "Now," she said. "What exactly happened?"

            Davis took a seat and began relating his tale; "I heard scratching on the front door, so I thought I'd take a peak. All of a sudden, this paw, or something comes reaching in and nearly takes my face off…"

            "Again," Skinner interjected. "I say, pity… yeowch!" He turned to glare at Cabrilyn, who had stomped on his foot. "What was that for?"

            "For being rude," she replied simply, smiling.

            "Look," Tom said, studiously ignoring Skinner and Cabrilyn. "Whatever it is, it's roaming the streets right now…"

            "And let me guess, you want to go hunt it down?" Dorian said condescendingly. "Why would you waste your time?"

            Tom glared at him. "Because I have sworn to protect people, and if you don't want to, fine, but I'm going to do my duty."

            Dorian scoffed. "You've sworn to protect the _American _people, you're in London now. Your "duty" doesn't mean a thing here."

            "People are people, Dorian, it doesn't matter where they live," Tom replied. "I'm not about to let innocent people die, especially knowing I could've helped. Unlike you, I _have _a conscience." With that, Tom stormed out of the room leaving the rest of the League looking a little bewildered.__

            "He's right, you know," Jekyll said at length. "That… that _thing _is dangerous."

            "That was no _thing," _Mina said suddenly, as if just remembering something. "It was a werewolf."

* * *

            Tom had searched high and low, but had found no sign of the creature. Of course, he wasn't exactly certain what he was looking for. _'What am I thinking?'_ He thought, leaning against a cold brick wall. It was silly for him to be out in the early hours of the morning, searching for an unknown quarry, unprepared for what he might find. He hadn't been thinking. Dorian and his snide remarks, coupled with a lack of conscience, made his so _angry_ sometimes. The young American glanced up. The sun was just peeking over the tops of the London buildings, painting the sky an array of oranges, pinks, and purples.

            Suddenly, a scream pierced the early morning air. Tom leapt in surprise and drew his pistols. The scream had come from a nearby alley. He bolted, praying that he would not be too late.

* * *

            "He certainly has been gone a long time."

            "Don't worry yourself, love. Sawyer's a big boy – he can take care of himself."

            Cabrilyn laughed, "Funny, he said the same thing about you."

            Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Did he? Well, Mina's out looking for him anyway. She'll bring him back whether he wants to come or not." He moved to the small couch where Cabrilyn was sitting and plopped down. "I'll tell you this, it's never boring with this crowd. I assumed we'd at least get a little vacation after dropping Reed off."

            "Well, you know what the first three letters of 'assume' are," Cabrilyn said.

            "Are you insulting me?" Skinner asked indignantly. "If you are, I see no reason to give you this." He reached under the couch and produced a very long box, wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with a string. He placed it on Cabrilyn's lap.

            "You got me something? How? Why?" Cabrilyn ran her hands over the box, taking in its size and texture. Using her sense of touch to tell her what her eyes could not.

            "I had some money stashed away," Skinner replied. Cabrilyn glanced in his direction and opened her mouth to speak, but Skinner already knew what she was going to ask. "Yes, it was _my_ money. Honestly, what kind of thief do you take me for? Don't answer that."

            Cabrilyn smirked. "And you got me a gift because…?"

            "Because I could," Skinner replied simply. "Well, go on. Open it."

            "All right, all right." Cabrilyn untied the string and removed the paper. That was the easy part. She had a little trouble opening the box, but she finally managed. She lifted her gift from its box. "What is it?"

            Skinner rolled his eyes. "It's a staff, silly. Now you can walk around without running into things… hm, I should have got one for Davis."

            Cabrilyn laughed. "Thank you. You're very sweet, you know?"

            "I know," Skinner said. "Just, don't tell the others or I'll never hear the end of it."

* * *

            Tom was too late. When he arrived at the alley, his fears were confirmed. A young man was knelt on the cold hard ground, clutching the lifeless, bloodied figure of a young woman in his arms. The young man was sobbing violently, begging her to life, but she was gone. He, too, was covered in blood. Tom could not tell if this was from his own wounds, or from the girl. It was certain to him that they had both been attacked. The girl's dress had been all but shredded to pieces, as had the young man's clothes.

            The young American approached the grieving man carefully. "She's gone," he said softly.

            "I know," the young man replied, not bothering to look up. He kept his eyes on the face of his companion. Her eyes were open, forever frozen in fear and pain. Finally, the young man looked up at Tom. His forest green eyes shone with tears. He moved to stand, but could not bring himself to do so.

            "We need to get you to a doctor," Tom said. This young man was wounded, and badly.

            "Sawyer!"

            Tom reeled around to find Mina. She did not look very pleased with him. That look soon faded when she laid eyes on the man and the body of the girl. "Mina," Tom said, helping the young man to his feet. "He's hurt. We've got to get him to Jekyll."

            "What bout her?" Mina asked.

            "There's nothing we can do about her," the green-eyed young man said bitterly. "She's dead."

* * *

A/N: Ta-da! Yonder first chapter is done! I hope you all liked it. Hehehe – now we have werewolves roaming around London. ::scary-type music:: Right-o. Now I'll get to work on chapter two and introducing the mystery character from my disclaimer…


	2. First Meetings

A/N: Maybe I confused some of you when I said "werewolves" at the end of chapter one. I meant werewolf, as in one, unless I decide to add more later on just for kicks and giggles. For the moment, though, there shall only remain one werewolf.

**izzygirlxp – **Splendiferous. I like that word! As for Cabby stomping on Skinner's foot, um… girlfriend intuition? BTW, you are, like the fastest reviewer ever! You reviewed about six minutes after I posted!

**Lily Bengal – **You are a big meanie! You shouldn't be so mean, because I know where _you_ live, and _I_ have tigers!

            **Remy, Bongo & Brak: **Growl… [Translation: Run for your life Lily!]

**Mrs. Mina Harker – **Not all things end happily. Cabby's blind, but at least she's still alive.

**Mwpp-lover – **Ah, the Marauders! "I solemnly swear I am up to no good!" Hehehe!

**funyun – **Sorry, but taking off Davis' face doesn't fit in my plans. Besides, he'd only give Jekyll more of a hard time while he was trying to fix it.

**schizomaniax – **Yup, Dorian is bitter. He doesn't like being dead, and, in a sense, homeless.

**Crystal Nox – **Look at you! You've got an account! [And a rather successful fic, might I add?] Glad you're happy! I'm here to please!

**Chasten-chan – **The tearing-the-skin-off thing weirded me out. Ugh.

**morph – **Y'know, I half-expected Jason Flemyng's voice to come out of the Van Helsing version of Mr. Hyde, but only half. So, you've got a foreshadowing feeling. Hm… we'll see if you're right or not.

**Lady Moon3 –** Huh? A half vampire married to Legolas? What the heck are you talking about?

**elven-emma – **As much as I love Hugh Jackman [and that's a LOT] he's not going to be in this fic. I'll leave that stuff for you. XD

**_Disclaimer: _**This will be the last one of these you see for a while. But, you guessed it, I own the young man from the alley, whose name and the like we will learn later.

* * *

            Dr. Jekyll finally emerged from the other room where he'd been tending to their new guest. "He'll be fine," he said. "He suffered a few mild lacerations, but appears otherwise unharmed."

            "We need to talk to him," Tom said. "To figure out where that _thing _went."

            "There will be time for that later, Agent Sawyer," Jekyll said sternly. "Our young friend needs his rest. He's been through a lot. We should leave him be for now."

            Tom scowled but nevertheless, did as the doctor bid and left. Cabrilyn, staff in hand, using it to tell her if anything was blocking her path, fell in step beside the young American. "Something troubling you, Sawyer?" She asked.

            He scoffed. "What would make you say that?"

            "Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I'm dense. I can tell," Cabrilyn said. "There is something bothering you. It's in the way you act, the way you speak. It goes a little deeper than Dorian and his sarcasm, doesn't it?"

            Tom stopped in his tracks and stared at the blind woman before him. She was right – his ill feelings went deeper than Dorian. On some level, they went to her and Skinner, and Mina and Jekyll. He felt a little rejected. He understood now why Quatermain had always thrown himself in harm's way – to escape the aloneness. That's why he had done what he had done last night. Dorian's remarks had merely been the proverbial straw to break the camel's back. After a moment, he could stand just staring a Cabrilyn no longer. He turned and, with all the haste he could muster, strode away.

            Cabrilyn sighed. Tom would have to work out his feelings on his own. It was not something she could help.

* * *

            _He could see it all happening. The claws… the teeth… he watched it all, unable to stop it. Then came the sun, doing what he could not. The monster roared and retreated, not to be seen again until the next full moon…_

            A thunderous crash jolted him to wakefulness. He jerked upright, throwing the covers from him. It took him a moment to gain his bearings after such a rude awakening. Now he remembered, the attack in the alley, the stranger who had brought him here, and the doctor that had tended his wounds. Now, what had made that noise? He looked around. The room was furnished with carved redwood furniture – expensive to say the least. Near the doorway he found an upturned table, and someone was crouched nearby with their back to him, hastily picking up the pieces of a broken vase.

            "Excuse me," the young man said. The stranger leapt up in surprise, dropping the pottery pieces and nearly tripping over the table. The young man froze in fear – the intruder had neither head nor arms.

            "Davis!" Someone called from the hallway – the doctor. "Are you terrorizing my patient? Get out of there." Jekyll reached through the door and ushered Davis from the room. After a moment, he poked his head back in the door. "I'm terribly sorry about him." He soon laid eyes on the table and the shattered remains of the vase. "Oh dear. Dorian is not going to like that."

            "Wh… what was that…?" The young man stuttered.

            "What was…? Oh, Davis. Yes, well, he's… um, he's invisible," Jekyll said, and even as he did he knew the young man would not believe him. It was a pretty farfetched notion to anyone who had not spent the last few months with Skinner, or Davis. "I'll explain later," the doctor reassured. "Now, are you feeling up to telling us about the creature?"

            The young man gulped. "Us? Are there any more invisible people?"

            Jekyll couldn't help but smile at the young man. "Only one more."

* * *

            Skinner at least had the decency to wear greasepaint on his face for their meeting with the young man. Davis adamantly refused to do so. No one was exactly sure why. Skinner, of course, had volunteered to paint Davis since he refused to dawn the greasepaint, but he had been refused and Davis was allowed to show up at the meeting au natural. The young stranger seemed a little less wary of him now after seeing him once anyway.

            "I suppose we should get started," Tom said as the League and their guest settled in their seats. "So… where should we start?"

            "I would settle for an introduction," Mina said, motioning to their young visitor.

            The young man cleared his throat nervously. "Erm… right. My name's Otto Calhan." He had a tinge of Cockney in his voice – he was from Skinner's neck of the woods. The League surveyed Otto carefully. He was young, perhaps a couple of years younger than Tom. His dark, black-brown hair was unkempt and long. He seemed to have a naturally scruffy look about him. Otto seemed a little uncomfortable under their gazes. "And you are…?" He asked.

            Introductions were made, and young Otto seemed a little more comfortable now that he at least knew whose company he was in. Now, though, the conversation was about to take a rather uncomfortable turn. "Otto," Tom said, knowing he was treading into a touchy subject. "I need to ask you about the attack in the alley."

            Otto's green eyes widened and he looked suddenly frightened. He chewed his lower lip nervously.

            "What exactly happened?" Mina beckoned.

            "Alice," he said in a small voice. "She was walking home. That monster came from the rooftop, and chased her to the alley. I tried to stop it, really I did, but it was too strong. It tore her to pieces… she barely had time to scream. Then the sun started to come up and the monster just left…" he stopped and swallowed hard. "That's it."

            "Do you have any idea what that thing was?" Mina asked.

            Otto looked at the vampiress. "Aside from a heartless monster?" He asked bitterly.

            "It was a werewolf," she stated. Otto looked her strait in the eye, his face conveying not the slightest hint of emotion. Something about Mina seemed almost otherworldly to him, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Mina merely raised a brow and turned away from the young man's stare.

            "You knew this young woman?" Nemo said, referring to the girl in the alley.

            "Yes," Otto replied somberly, looking from Mina to the captain. "She was my sister."

* * *

A/N: You can all start pitying Otto now. I know this one is short, but I'm suffering from mild writer's block. [Which is not good this early in the story!] Anyway, it'll get interesting after this.


	3. Family

A/N: So sorry about the wait, but until just recently I didn't have a definite plot device. [I know, it seems silly to start a fic having no idea what the plot is going to be… bad Krisian, bad.] Oh well. The point is, I've got one now. I attribute that to my brilliant sister and her twisted mind. I love ya, Jac. ::corny sisterly love moment:: Heh, and you all thought this was just going to revolve around the werewolf and Cabby's parents… Oh, how little you know… ::insert evil laughter here::

**Queerquail – **Ah. Straight, not strait. I hate it when I get my words all confused like that. Thanks.

**Cecily – **You don't _really _wish a werewolf would ravage your sister, do you? Long-haired blokes are great… rar…

**Nicky007 – **Look, I used your new name again! Evil Davis! ::whacks Davis over the head with the crowbar:: ::Davis stumbles around asking if anyone got the number of the truck that just hit him:: Hehehe! That'll teach him to terrorize Jekyll's patients. XD

**elven-emma – **Think you've figured it out, have you? Well, don't go blabbing in case you're right.

**schizomaniax – **Have I ever told you that you should get an account? You should, and then if I keep putting off the **_DTG _**fic, I can give it to you. ::poke:: Get an account, or I shall poke you repeatedly! ::poke::

**morph – **Yup. Pity-party for Otto! ::tosses confetti::

**Lady Moon3 – **You hang out with some weird people, you know that? Besides, she can't be married to Legolas 'cause I am. XD You can join in Otto's pity-party. ::tosses more confetti::

**Niani – **Another for Otto's pity-party! ::puts confetti in the leaf-blower and sprays it everywhere::

**Perin Thunderholder – **I think you're having an identity crisis, hence the change in names. XD I've got a plot now! Huzzah!

* * *

            Otto stood just outside Dorian's house, listening to the lapping of the water on the London docks. He had been given a change of clothes, and his hair was combed and pulled back in a ponytail. Despite his recent grooming, Otto still maintained that slightly scruffy look. He sighed and looked up. The smell of rain wafted in the air. It was night, and moon had waned – Otto would have a glorious month before he would even have to think about that furred nightmare again. Now, his thoughts turned to his sister Alice. She had been his last living relative, now he had no one – though, the League had agreed to let Otto stay with them until the werewolf crisis was solved.

            The sound of footsteps on the street snapped Otto from thought. He turned to find a rather well dressed individual heading his way. The man was tall, and wore a fine suit. He carried a cane in a gloved hand. The other, he used to fish a golden pocket-watch from his vest pocket. His striking blued eyes moved from his watch to the dark-haired youth before him. "Pardon me," he said. "Could you assist me for a moment?"

            "Depends," Otto replied. "What is it that you need?"

            "My wife and I ran into some carriage trouble," he replied, sweeping off his top hat to reveal graying blond hair. "You're a good strong lad, aren't you? Would you give us a hand?"

            Otto sized up this stranger. He had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least, yet he looked as handsome as any man twenty years his junior. After a moment, Otto shrugged. "Sure. Lead the way."

            The man took off at a brisk walk, Otto followed, and soon they came to a dimly lit street, in the middle of which was a small, yet expensive-looking, horse-drawn carriage. One of the wheels had broken, leaving the carriage in a precariously lop-sided position.

            A woman poked her head from inside. Her long brown locks were intertwined with gray – she couldn't have been much younger than the man. "Charles, is that you?" She asked in a soft alto.

            "Yes, dear," the man replied. "I've brought help." Suddenly, a clap of thunder broke through the otherwise quiet London night. Charles looked up as the first of the rain began to fall. "Not a moment too soon, it seems." The rain began pouring down in sheets; drenching them as Otto and Charles toiled in the cold to change the wheel. Finally, they were able to get the new one in place. Both were freezing and soaking wet.

            "There. Finally done," Charles sighed.

            Otto smiled. "It appears you've ruined your suit," he noted, nodding towards Charles.

            Charles looked down at his soaked garments and laughed. "Ah, this old thing? I've got millions more at home." Ha clapped a hand on Otto's shoulder. "We can't thank you enough… um, what's your name anyway?"

            "Otto. Otto Calhan."

            "Ah, young mister Calhan. Thank you. My wife and I owe you one," he grinned. "Anytime you need a favor, just call on me."

            "I'm afraid I can't do that if I don't know your name," Otto replied.

            "My name…? Oh yes. How rude of me. I'm Charles Lynné, and this is my lovely wife Elise." Elise waved from her dry perch within the carriage. Otto gave her a polite nod. Charles dug into his pocket again and extracted his watch. "Good Lord!" He exclaimed, seeing the late hour. "We'd best be off. Thank you again!" With that, he hopped into the carriage and beckoned the horse onward.

* * *

            "Otto! You're soaking wet!"

            Otto looked up at Mina from wringing his hair out. "Yes, in case you haven't noticed, it's raining outside."

            Mina frowned. Otto did not get along with her very well, and he made no point in hiding it. Something about Mina just irked him, and something about Otto just irked her. Neither of them could place exactly what it was. She disappeared up the stairs and a moment later came back bearing a towel. She tossed it to him. "At least have the decency not to drip all over the place." Otto snatched the towel and moodily dried off.

            At that moment, Skinner came meandering down the hall. "Hello all," he said brightly. "How are… Otto, you're all wet."

            "Really?" Otto replied in mock astonishment.

            "Yes, really," Skinner said. "What were you doing out in the rain?"

            "I was helping someone fix their carriage," Otto replied matter-of-factly. "A very nice couple, rich too by their looks, Charles and Elise Lynné."

            Skinner stopped dead in his tracks. "What were their names?" He asked, his cheery tone replaced by one of utmost seriousness.

            "Charles and Elise Lynné," Otto stated, giving the gentleman thief a confused look. "Why?"

            The question went unanswered for Skinner had turned tail and dashed back from where he came, nearly mowing Davis over in the process. Davis sidestepped Skinner, but managed to fall over nonetheless. The invisible man picked himself off and looked curiously after Skinner. "Where's he off to like a mad man?" He wondered aloud.

            Both Mina and Otto shrugged. "I have no clue," Otto said.

* * *

            "Cabrilyn!" Skinner burst through the door so suddenly that Cabrilyn practically jumped out of her skin in surprise.

            "Ah! _What?"_

            "Your parents," Skinner said, too excited to even breathe between his words. "What are your parents' names?"

            Cabrilyn was caught off guard by the question. She said nothing for a long moment as Skinner caught his breath and anxiously awaited her answer. Finally, she said, "Skinner, what does it matter? It's not like…"

            Skinner sighed loudly, cutting her off. "Just humor me. What are their names?"

            "Fine. My father's name was Charles, and my mother's name was Elise. Why?"

            The gentleman thief beamed, "Because Otto just found them."

            Cabrilyn's milky-blue eyes welled up with tears. She didn't know whether to smack Skinner or to hug him. "If this is some kind of joke, I swear…"

            "No joke, I promise," he said, taking her hands in his. "They're here. Otto just spoke with them not more than ten minutes ago." With that, Cabrilyn flung her arms around him and let spill tears of joy. Perhaps she would get to be with her parents again after twelve long, painful years.

* * *

A/N: Another short one, I know, but oh well. Aw, yay for Cabby. Her life's not all angst… though I don't know how mom and dad would react to her bringing home a boyfriend like Skinner. That would be a little awkward. XD


	4. Old Flames and New

A/N: YAY! My muses have been freed! Here we get some revelations, some romance, and a new character! [Whom I own, no stealing!] I'm so excited! XD Anyway, now that my muses are free, I can update this a little more often, provided I don't get the sudden, weird urge to write something else… that's been known to happen!

**funyun – **You can still join Otto's pity-party if you wish! You are bound and determined to hurt Davis in every chapter, aren't you?

**Lilren – **Perin… Lily… whatever… Anyway, your baby talk was weawy hawd to wead, but it amoosed me anyway!

**Cecily Marla Smith – **How come I wasn't aware that dating invisible guys was the craze? The magazines I get are not as hip with the trends as they say they are!

**Queerquail – **I'm so afraid! Aah! Hehehe, j/k! Thanks, glad you liked it!

**Chasten-chan – **Well, no one was sure if Cabby's parents were alive or dead. I never went into that anyway! You didn't not pay attention! [Whoa, that was so totally a double negative! But it's 1 o'clock in the morning and I don't care!]

**Nicky007 – **Hehehe, if you think that was emotional, you ain't seen nothin' yet!

**elven-emma – **Hello, oh she-who-does-not-update-her-fics! [J/K!] Is Cabby allowed to say "mother"?

**Crystal Nox – **Aw… I'm flattered! ::blushes:: That was very nice! A Skinner plushie for you!

**schizomaniax – **That was another novel-like review! You're from the Philippines? Neat-o! Hey, take as long as you need, I'm in no hurry! Ooh, I like playing "let's point out the obvious!" Look, a computer! Hehehe!

**Hiril Moon – **Why for did you change your name? I'm sorry about the whole Legolas thing… we can always share… XD _"Mum, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Rodney Skinner. I know you can't see him, but that's OK, since I can't see anything!" _That amused me to no end! Hehehe!

**C-3POandStickFigureBarbie – **Have I mentioned that your penname cracks me up? [I think I did, but oh well!] Hm… what _would _Skinner say to a lie detector test?

* * *

            Her parents… after being torn away from them, having no knowledge of their whereabouts or if they were even alive for that matter, they were found – alive and well, and living right in London. There was only one issue that put a damper on Cabrilyn's reunion with her parents: she had no idea where to find them. None. Otto had no idea either, since he'd merely gotten their names and did not bother to ask for an address or anything of the like – and he'd had to tell Cabrilyn that several times already. She constantly bombarded him with questions, and he was getting rather annoyed.

            "Otto, you're _certain…"_

"For the millionth time _yes!" _Otto snapped, plopping down in one of the battle-scarred library chairs. "How many times do I have to tell you before it gets through your head?" He grumbled. Cabrilyn didn't seem to hear Otto's remark, her own thoughts keeping her far too preoccupied. Skinner, on the other hand, heard it loud and clear…

            "Hey now," Skinner said. "Don't talk to her like that." Otto merely rolled his eyes as Skinner chided him for snapping at Cabrilyn. Skinner glared at the frustrated youth. He leaned down, coming eye to eye with Otto. "You're very fortunate Cabrilyn doesn't know you're being so flip to her," he said softly, so Cabrilyn couldn't hear. "Cause if she did, she'd literally take your head off. Believe me, I've been there." Curiosity flashed briefly in Otto's eyes, part of him wanting to know more of the reasoning behind Skinner's words, but he dropped the subject for the moment. There would be time for story-telling later, besides, something told Otto that Skinner meant every word.

            "I honestly and truly don't know where they are," Otto said at length. "Probably one of the rich neighborhoods."

            It was then that Skinner got a sudden idea. It wasn't an idea he particularly liked since it involved contacting someone from his thieving days, but it was an idea nonetheless. He sighed inwardly, not really believing he was actually about to suggest… "Mortie."

            "Who?" Both Cabrilyn and Otto asked.

            "Mortie," Skinner repeated. "Mortie Olin, an old…" he paused, searching for the right word, "…acquaintance of mine. If anyone can find your parents, it's Mortie."

* * *

            It had been a good hour since Skinner had gone looking for this Mortie of his, and Tom had tagged along. Now, Jekyll sat in his room, leafing through the book he'd pilfered from Dorian's library, and trying to ignore Mina and Otto bickering over something or other just outside his door. He was not sure what had started their argument, but he _was _sure nothing short of Hyde busting down the door would get them to stop – and Hyde had already offered to do so more than once. Suddenly, the door swung open and in stormed a very ticked off Mina. Jekyll looked at her over his book and raised his eyebrows. "That didn't go well, I take it."

            Mina glared at him, but her demeanor quickly softened. She couldn't be mad at Jekyll, for any reason. She sighed, "There is something about Otto that's just… I don't know… It's not right. I'm beginning to think…" She didn't finish her thought for either lack of the right words or lack of certainty about what she wanted to say.

            "What?" Jekyll asked, setting down his book. "That Otto is the werewolf?" The look Mina gave him answered his question easily. He chucked lightly as he rose from his chair and walked over to her. "I've had the same thought myself. I didn't tell anyone this, but when Agent Sawyer first brought Otto to me, there was a gunshot wound in Otto's left arm."

            "Henry…" Mina was taken aback by this new information. Now it suddenly made sense to her why she and Otto did not get along. "Why didn't you say something? He could be dangerous."

            Jekyll shrugged. "So could I, but you keep me around."

            "Yes, but that's different," Mina replied.

            "Is it? I don't believe so."

            Mina thought on this for a moment. What he was saying certainly made sense, she supposed. After a while she sighed, "Your compassion is going to get you into trouble some day, I hope you know."

            "Yes I know," Jekyll replied, placing a hand on her cheek and kissing her gently on the lips. She welcomed his affection, melting into his kiss.

            Unbeknownst to them, Dorian stood in the doorway watching this unfold. He glared at the two, jealousy burning in his gaze. He turned sharply on his heel and strode away, grumbling idle threats and wondering why he felt so jealous… Perhaps he cared for Mina more than he thought.

* * *

            The dismal alley was rank with the smell of garbage and excrement, mixed with the scent of rain that had been steadily falling for three days since Otto's encounter with the Lynnés. It was in this alley, in the very heart of the most disreputable part of London, that Skinner had said Mortie could be found. A stray cat looked up briefly from its freshly caught meal at the pair making their way down the rain washed alleyway – one seemed a bit more at ease in the current surroundings than the other.

            Skinner sighed. "Ah, yes. The good 'ol days." He glanced back over his shoulder, rain spilling from the brim of his hat. "Lower your gun, Sawyer," he said. "The trash cans are _not _going to attack you, I'm sure."

            Tom was about to respond to Skinner's remark when he caught movement in the shadows just behind Skinner. He brought his rifle up, but he had nothing to aim for. Whoever was lurking about did a good job at hiding themselves.

            "What on Earth are you do… _ah!"_ Skinner inhaled sharply as the point of a knife was pressed firmly between his shoulder blades.

            "State your business," a voice snapped. Much to Tom's surprise, it was a female voice – deep and silky, yet commanding.

            Skinner merely smirked. "Mortie, darlin', is that any way to treat a guest?"

            The knife left Skinner's back. "Skinner? Is it really you?"

            "In the flesh," Skinner replied, turning around, laying eyes on someone he had not seen since he left to join the League. Mortie laughed and embraced Skinner in a full-on bear hug. Meanwhile, Tom stood silent in the background. Mortie was a _woman? _Skinner soon remembered Tom standing there and wrenched out of Mortie's grasp. "Mortie, this is Tom Sawyer. He's a friend of mine. Sawyer, this is Mortianna Olin, Mortie for short."

            Tom tipped his hat politely, sending a small waterfall cascading over the brim. Mortie nodded. Her appearance was shabby, to say the very least. Her dark leather duster was dirty and nearly worn through in some places, and her dampened raven corkscrew curls were in desperate need of a brushing. She turned back to Skinner, coming nearly eye-level with him. "All this time I thought you got yourself arrested," she said, her commanding tone replaced with one that sounded to be almost like affection. "What happened to you?"

            Skinner smiled uneasily. "It's a long story, trust me. Right now, I need a favor."

            Mortie raised an eyebrow, "Like…?"

            "I need you to find someone."

* * *

A/N: I'll let you all make of Mortie what you will… Right, I'm going to bed now cause it's 1:40 in the morning and I can't type to save my life right now! Bye!


	5. Revelations

A/N: Wow, when my muses are free, they waste no time in inspiring me. This whole chapter started out going where I wanted it to go, then it randomly changed direction on me. Ah, oh well. I think it turned out nicely. Any-who, I'm glad you all enjoyed Mortie. She's fun. Ah, and now a little bit [ok, a _lot]_ of Davis torture…

**Cecily Marla Smith – **Aw… thanks. Now, you get to find out! ::wink, wink::

**Morph – **Hehehe! I think Mortie's one of my favorites.

**Lilren – **In what way does Mortie seem familiar? So, how _did _you get the plushie to transform?

**Nicky007 – **Cucumber mask… um… thanks? Just kidding. Yummy!

**Crystal Nox – **Lord only know where the story will lead! This story is a whole lotta plot-twists! Oy! Ah, oh well! It's fun to twist the plot… ::grabs plot and twists it:: Look, a plot pretzel!

* * *

            Skinner had given Otto's descriptions of Cabrilyn's parents to Mortie, who promised she would do her very best to find them as quickly as her resources would allow. Skinner had also given Mortie the address of their current residence, so she could relay her information. Tom had not been in full support of Skinner giving her the address. While, Mortie seemed to have a certain respect for Skinner, he could not be sure if she would not try to make off with a few of Dorian's possessions in the midst of delivering her information. He was more worried for Mortie's well-being than that of Dorian's belongings – the Lord only knew what the immortal would do if he caught Mortie raiding his house.

            When Tom voiced his opinion, Skinner merely laughed. "Mortie's a tough one, Sawyer. It'd take more than old Dorian to bring her down."

            "You forget – 'old Dorian' can't even be touched, much less killed," Tom replied as they rounded the corner, Dorian's home coming into full view. Jekyll sat on the front step just out of the rain, immersed in his book. Loud shouts issued from inside.

            Skinner and Tom exchanged glances, then sped up their pace. "Doctor," Tom called. Jekyll blinked and looked up from his reading. "What the heck is goin' on in there?"

            Jekyll looked back at the doors behind him, then at Tom. "It's Dorian." He replied as if this were old news. "He's gotten into a shouting match with Davis. He'd of killed Davis a long time ago, but Davis is doing a good job of staying… out of sight, if you will. The others have retired to the Nautilus," he said, motioning to the silver-white vessel docked not far away, "But I wanted to stay close… just in case Dorian actually got a hold of him."

            There was the sound of porcelain smashing followed by Dorian's angry shouts. Skinner raised an eyebrow. "I almost feel sorry for Davis… almost."

* * *

            Davis and Dorian were causing more damage to the library than any of M or Reed's gunmen could ever do. Furniture and books lay strewn about the room, creating a chaotic obstacle course. Davis stumbled, knocking over yet _another_ piece of furniture, this one bearing a porcelain vase. It smashed to the floor, fueling Dorian's temper. Davis cursed under his breath and scrambled to the opposite side of the room while Dorian threatened every possible aspect of his life. The immortal searched unsuccessfully for the invisible man – Davis had shed his clothes a while back. His clumsiness was what gave him away.

            Dorian seethed with silent anger, but not for Davis. His anger had another source… He kept a close eye on the furniture, waiting for a chair to tip, or a table to move. Davis cowered in the corner, not daring to even breathe. He racked his brain, trying to remember what he'd done to set Dorian off like that… Dorian had been coming from the direction of Jekyll's room… all Davis had said was _"Good day, Mr. Gray…" _Then Dorian just went off, yelling something or other – Davis had been too startled to hear what exactly. He'd stumbled back into the wall, knocking a framed painting from it… then Dorian _really _lost it.

            "Where are you?" The immortal muttered, strolling steadily toward Davis' corner. "Where… are… you…?" Dorian was getting closer. Davis held his breath, praying he would not be found. Dorian cursed and turned away and Davis let out an inaudible sigh of relief, accidentally knocking the bookshelf with his elbow. Dorian reeled around, his eyes fixed on the corner. With a quick sidestep, the immortal passed through the bookcase.

            The bookcase rocked, and a book dropped from the uppermost shelf, missing Davis by mere inches. The man yelped and scrambled to get out of the way as the rain of books increased. He leapt clear of the bookcase as the entire thing came crashing down, catching the side of his head on a lamp hanging from the wall. Davis cursed again as he clapped a hand to the spot, feeling blood. Dorian came stepping from the debris, heading straight for the invisible man.

            Davis did the only thing he could to against Dorian – he ran. His foot came across the edge of the rug and he stumbled, only then did he pause and look at the debris that lay between him and the door… Suddenly, a memory came to him like a flash of lightning… _It was some kind of army boot camp. The air was thick and humid, the smell of rain wafted on the warm breeze. Half buried in mud, was an obstacle course. His comrades watched him with anticipation as the instructor put a whistle to his wind-chapped lips and blew… _Davis took off like a shot, dodging upturned chairs, leaping over strewn books with an agility he did not know he had. He was nearly gone before Dorian realized where he was and gave chase. With a giant leap, Davis hurdled one last table and was home free.

* * *

            The door swung open, nearly scaring Jekyll out of his wits. It slammed quickly again as Davis all but collapsed onto the cement, panting heavily. "Davis?" Jekyll asked. "What on Earth…?"

            Davis muttered only three words before fatigue overtook him: "Dorian's… gone… crazy…" And then he just passed out. Jekyll dropped his book and tried to haul Davis over to the Nautilus.

            Suddenly Dorian came charging through the door. "Where is he? Where is the little…?"

            "Dorian, stop," Jekyll demanded. He did not know what reason Dorian had for being so angry with Davis, nor did he care how legitimate a reason it was, he was not about to let Dorian just murder someone.

            The immortal turned on Jekyll. "You," he said, malice dripping from his very words. "You stay out of this." Jekyll stood his ground in the pouring rain. Dorian fumed. Jekyll was the real reason for his rage… Jekyll and Mina. He'd just loosed his frustration on the first person that happened his way – Davis. Now, though, Jekyll was standing right here… he could finish it all, right now…

            A gunshot rang out, and Dorian looked up towards the Nautilus. Tom, backed by the rest of the League, as well as Otto and Cabrilyn, stood not far from the Nautilus, pistol drawn. Calmly the American slid his pistol back into its holster. "Dorian," he said. "Get away from him." Dorian did not move. Tom raised a brow. _"Now."_

            The immortal scoffed. He was not the least bit intimidated my Tom and his guns. There was nothing any of them could do. No harm could befall him – he was already dead. He seized Jekyll and was about to beat the living daylights from him. Suddenly, Dorian was seized from behind and pulled to the ground. Jekyll was sent sprawling on the street. Dorian looked absolutely baffled and struggled to get up, but was kicked back to the ground and pinned beneath the muddied boot of his attacker. Dorian was bewildered – he had literally been untouchable… he still was. The rain still passed through him as it did ten seconds ago. Again he struggled to rise, but Otto held him down firmly.

            "How… how…?" Dorian stuttered, looking up at the young man.

            Otto looked the immortal square in the eye. "Don't touch him again. Ever." He let out a small, wolf-like growl before removing his boot from Dorian, who just stayed on the wet road, trying to figure out what happened. He went to Jekyll, who had watched this entire scene from the ground, looking just as confused as Dorian. Otto extended a hand. Jekyll took it gratefully and Otto hauled him to his feet.

            "Otto, thank you, but…?" Jekyll began.

            "I figure I owe you," Otto replied.

            "Owe me? For what?"

            In reply, Otto glanced back at Mina, who was studiously ignoring the others' questions and remarks. She nodded to him. "For keeping my secret."

            "I does not have to be a secret, you know," Jekyll replied, now all of his suspicions about Otto were confirmed – he was indeed the werewolf.  "It is only a few weeks until the next full moon, and you could use all the help you could get." The pair cast a glance at the rest of the League. "Of course," Jekyll said. "This might take a bit of explaining."

* * *

A/N: Jeez. Jealousy will _really _drive you mad! ::bursts out into _El Tango De Roxanne _from _Moulin Rouge _and dances around:: I think Davis sums it up best when he said "Dorian's… gone… crazy…" Hehehe, poor guy. He just happened to catch Dorian right on his way from seeing Jekyll and Mina's little "moment." Not good timing! XD


	6. An Unwanted Visitor

A/N: Ta-da! Chapter six is here! No we get to learn a little bit more about Mortie and Otto. This is a relatively long chapter for me! Wow! Ok… onward!

**Cecily - **::snatches the handbag and bops Davis with it:: Sorry, I just really wanted to do that! Oh, joy… work. [Note the sarcasm.] Huzzah for you for realizing Dorian spying on Mina and Jekyll was like Jekyll spying on Mina and Dorian! You win the grand prize! [Now, if only I knew what the grand prize was…]

**schizomaniax – **You were the only one to remark about the trashcan line! Just for that, you get your very own killer trashcan! Watch out, it bites! How did you ever manage to submit the same review to chapter 5 twice?

**C-3POandStickFigureBarbie – **Here, you can have an Otto plushie!

**Hiril Moon – **My what a dirty mouth you have! Eep! Ah, Elvish. Aníron Legolas! [That would be Elvish for "I desire Legolas!"] And now, aníron a plate of nachos!

**Lady Lilrin – **How do you know that this Mortie the Magician of yours is a girl?

**morph – **You know, I just recently saw the X-Men episode where the guy named Morph dies, but I digress… Yeah, Dorian's always been a little cracked. I think living all those years, and then just dying might have something to do with it.

**elven-emma – **Aw… ::blushes:: That's so nice of you! Emma, watch out for that BANG! OOH! Tree… [A little _George of the Jungle_ there… Brendan Fraser was so HOT in that movie!]

* * *

            Weeks passed. Dorian was nowhere to be seen. He'd disappeared, to where, no one knew, but the reason why he had gone was obvious. No one was sure when he'd come back, or what he'd do when he did. Everyone, Jekyll and Davis especially, were on their guard.

            In the meantime, Otto had made Mina and Jekyll swear not to reveal his secret to the others. He wasn't sure how Tom would react since the young American had been so bent on werewolf killing. All would be revealed in due time.

            Through all of this, there had been no word from Mortie. Skinner was beginning to think that something had happened to her. It _never _took her this long to locate anyone before… Then, it had been well over a year since he'd last seen her. Things possibly could have changed.

* * *

            Unable to sleep, Tom had positioned himself in Dorian's attic, at the very window from which the Fantom had leapt all those months ago. He stared out towards the water. The moonlight glinted off of the chrome that so lavishly decorated the Nautilus. The moon would be full tomorrow night, and he would be better equipped to hunt the werewolf than he was the last time. His gaze was drawn to the street by the sound of soft footsteps. They continued for a short while longer, ten stopped abruptly. Tom scanned the street, but saw nothing. Nevertheless, his suspicions had been aroused and he decided to go investigate.

            He made his was silently down to the front door, and just as silently slid open the small door to take a peek outside. Again, he saw nothing. Tightening the grip on his rifle, he carefully opened the door and peered out. The street was vacant. Tom stepped out and glanced down the street, just to make sure. He sighed. Sleepiness was probably getting the better of him. Heaving another sigh, he turned and retreated inside.

            Mortie watched from her hiding place just inside the house as Tom closed the door and headed up the stairs. She presumed that was where the rooms were, and that was where she could find Skinner. She was glad for Tom coming down and opening the door – it saved her the trouble of picking the lock. As soon as she heard Tom's door shut, she stealthily headed up the stairs to find Skinner.

* * *

            _He was passing down the hall, trying to find his way out when the sound of gunfire reached him. It was rapid, but not rapid enough to be the product of one of those automatic rifles of M's. Then there was silence for a short while. He paused and listened. Soon, the gunfire resumed, only these bullets were ricocheting off of steel… Something told him it _had _to be one of the League, and he went with all haste to investigate. _

_            The smell of smoke soon reached him, and he quickened his pace. Fire was spewing from a nearby door. Carefully he peeked in. There was Sawyer, being pursued by one of M's flame throwers – there was no possible way he'd make it out of there. He had to help him… Snatching up a knife he'd found lying on the floor he rushed in. "Sawyer! Run for it!" He yelled, plunging the knife into the flame-thrower's tank. Then, he felt only searing hot pain…_

Skinner snapped into wakefulness, only to find that there was a hand on his shoulder… someone was in bed with him. He whipped around and came face to face with none other than Mortie. "What the…? Mortie!" At the sound of her name, Mortie's eyes snapped open. She barely muttered one syllable before Skinner rudely ushered her out of bed. _"What are you doing?"_ He demanded in a harsh whisper.

            Mortie stood and quickly snatched up the sheet and wrapped it around her unclothed body. "That's a fine how do you do." She grumbled.

            "Oh yes, and is your way any better?" Skinner said, seeking out his coat and sliding it on. "What's running through your head, woman?" This was a fine way to come out of a nightmare – it was made all the more worse by the fact the Cabrilyn's room was just across the hall.

            "I came to deliver my findings," Mortie said moodily, seeking out her own clothes. "And I saw you were having a nightmare. You looked like you could use some… comforting." A sly smile crossed her face.

            Skinner sighed. His nightmares came and went. They often fluctuated between the flame-thrower and Dr. Owen. Sometimes it was a horrid mixture of both. He looked at Mortie – he really hoped he wouldn't have to go through this. "Mortie… look… you and me… what we had…" he struggled for words – he was never any good at this sort of thing.

            Mortie seemed to grasp what he was trying to say. Her face became expressionless. "Ah, I see," she said flatly. She found her clothes and hastily pulled them on. "Is there someone else?" She asked suddenly, still without expression. Skinner couldn't tell whether she was hurt, or angry, or both.

            "Yes," he said at length. He was a little relieved she'd asked – he'd expected her to dance around _that_ question for another half hour. "Yes, there's someone else."

            "I see," Mortie said again. Without another word, she fished into her pocket and extracted a well-folded piece of paper. She tossed it onto the bed. Skinner looked from the paper to Mortie. She gave him one last glance and strode from the room, leaving Skinner feeling horrible about the events that had just taken place.

* * *

            Tom poked his head from his room, having heard something going on – he couldn't get to sleep with Skinner shouting "Sawyer! Run for it!" in the next room. Mortie was just exiting Skinner's room. She looked upset to say the least. "Mortie?" Sawyer said, not exactly sure what to make of her presence.

            "Mr. Sawyer," she said shortly.

            "Just call me Sawyer, please," he said, flashing a small smile. She paid him no mind. "Are you all right?" He asked as she breezed past him headed for the stairs.

            Mortie whipped around, her face set in stone. "I'm fine, Mr. Sawyer," she said shortly. Tom was about to correct her again, then thought better of it.

            "Well, I'll be seein' ya," he said, but again he was ignored as Mortie descended the stairs and let herself out. Tom threw a glance in the direction of Skinner's room, a million scenarios running through his head. He would _definitely _have to talk to Skinner in the morning…

* * *

            As the sun rose the next morning, two people could be seen leaving the Gray manor. They trekked to the docs, careful to avoid the puddles that littered the road from the recent rains, and slipped onto the Nautilus.

            "This would be it," Dr. Jekyll's voice echoed over the soft hiss of steam that filled the hallway. He pulled the steel door open and entered a room he had only been in once before – on the day he, and Hyde, had been introduced to the League.

            Otto brushed past the doctor and picked up one of the thick chains that littered the floor. He tugged on it lightly. "Are you certain these will hold me?" He asked, tugging a bit harder.

            "They held Hyde," Jekyll replied matter-of-factly as Otto examined the restraints.

            "Yes, but Hyde isn't a full-grown werewolf, is he," Otto said.

            Jekyll chuckled lightly. "He may as well be," he said, skillfully ignoring Hyde's snide remarks in his head.

            Otto merely raised an eyebrow. Jekyll highly underestimated the strength of a full-grown werewolf. They were powerful and unpredictable creatures – not so easily restrained. Otto even retained some of his werewolf strength and abilities while human, but he'd been careful not to let them show – especially while around the League. While human, he had nowhere near the strength of an actual werewolf, but he definitely had the sense of smell, and he could see in the dark better than most. His werewolf abilities were probably why he was able to touch Dorian when no other could. Rousing all his strength, Otto gave the chain one final yank – the steel creaked a little but the chain held fast. "I suppose it'll do," he said at last.

            "It'll have to do," Jekyll said. "It's all we've got. We can't just allow you to run rampant…"

            "Oh, believe me, I don't want to run rampant… Not after what happened last time…" For a while, silence reigned. Otto stared at the floor, trying not to think of his sister, or anyone else he'd killed. Jekyll began fiddling with his pocket-watch, and tried to forget his own evils. Suddenly, the sound of numerous people seeped into the room – the crew was stirring.

            Jekyll looked up. "I think we'd best leave."

            "Right," Otto replied. "Meet back here after dinner?"

            "Indeed… it's going to be a long night."

* * *

            Tom tapped lightly on Skinner's door. It was nearly noon, and Skinner had not been out all day. "Skinner?" Tom inquired, trying to turn the doorknob – locked.

            _"What?" _Came the reply. Skinner did not sound happy.

            "Can I come in?"

            "No."

            "Fine…" Tom reached into his back pocket and extracted a screwdriver. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to resort to breaking and entering, but Skinner couldn't stay holed up in his room all day. Tom soon removed the entire doorknob, and with a little jimmying, the door swung open.

            Skinner leapt up from the chair in which he'd been sitting, the paper Mortie had given him in his hand. "Sawyer! Do you mind?"

            "Yes," Tom replied. "What are you doing locked in your room?" Skinner didn't reply, so Tom ventured a guess. "Did something happen with Mortie?"

            After a moment, Skinner sighed wearily. "Yes… If you'd be so kind as to put my doorknob back on, I'll tell you."

            Tom obliged. It took him a while to put everything back together properly, but he finally got it. While Tom was bust with the door, Skinner tried to organize his thoughts. Where to start? He and Mortie were a complicated duo – this would take a little explaining. When he was through, Tom flopped down at the end of the unmade bed. "So…?"

            "So," Skinner echoed. "All right. Mortie and I met up about a year before I was… 'recruited' for the League. She'd been prowlin' the streets all her life, and she knew them better than anyone I'd ever met…" He paused, trying to figure out where to take the story from there.

            "When did you start courtin' her?" Tom asked, and was surprised when Skinner burst out laughing.

            "I never _courted _her Sawyer," he replied. "I never felt more than lust for her, and until last night, I would've swore she felt the same."

            "Does Cabrilyn know?"

            "No, and you must _swear _you won't tell her," Skinner said. "I can't stand to tell her… at least not now. I don't want to spring this on her in the middle of this parent episode – her emotions are running high as it is."

            After a moment of thought, Tom agreed. It was not up to him to run Skinner and Cabrilyn's relationship. "Fine, but you'd better tell her before she finds out on her own." He stood and went to the door.

            Skinner tucked the paper into his coat pocket and glanced at Tom. "Where are you off to?"

            "I'm going to get ready. I've got a werewolf to hunt…'

            And for the rest of that day, all was quiet. Then, the sun set and all hell broke loose…

* * *

A/N: Ok, yes, I know that was a cliffie, but the things that happen after sunset deserve their own chapter! Now, I'm off to chapter 7! Thank you all for your reviews!


	7. All Hell Breaks Loose

A/N: I'm baaaack! Finally! Sorry to keep you all waiting like this. Ok… onward…

**Nicky007 – **You called be homie! I feel so cool, yo!

**Lady Lilrin – **Oh, ye of dirty thoughts! I hope this chappie is fun enough for you! (PS – Cabwiwin!)

**Steffi-333 – **The "happy update dance" eh? Fun! Please don't set your chipmunks on me! ::cowers:: AAH!

**Demonic Psycho - **::blushes:: Aw… Thanks. Also, Jaclyn has built your villain, but your e-mail isn't working. You might want to contact her!

**Cecily Marla Smith – **"Oh, by the way, we think that the werewolf is harmless enough so you needn't go out and try to kill it. Thanks all the same." Hehehehe! That's great!

**morph**** – **Yeah, a _very _rough night!

**Hiril**** Moon – **Lots and lots of werewolf activities! Sorry, won't mention him again… though I _still_ would like some nachos…

**schizomaniax**** – **You named your killer trashcan Steve? Hehehe! Brilliant. Ooh, a virtual Pyro! ::huggles virtual Pyro::

**cheatachu82 – **Thankee muchly!

**Shiek927 – **Aw, thanks. I'm continuing as fast as… well, I'm continuing as fast as I am!

* * *

Even within his steel prison, Otto knew the sun was setting – he could feel the werewolf in him rousing, anxious for the moon to rise. All he could do now was pray that the bonds would hold and he could pass through the night unnoticed. Jekyll and Mina had positioned themselves on either side of the door to act as sort of lookouts – just in case. The moon peeked her silvery face over the horizon, and with a deep breath, Otto succumbed to the werewolf venom coursing through his veins.

Otto dropped to his knees, pain surged through every fiber of his body – shaking loose the foundations of his mind. In a matter of moments, he would neither know nor remember the two people by the door and would kill them as soon as look at them. With a cry of anguish, he buried his face in his hands, feeling the fur as it sprouted from his face and the claws as they grew from his hands.

Mina and Jekyll watched in a mixture of awe and fear as Otto's skin washed away in a wave of dark black-brown fur. The youth's cries soon morphed into howls as the transformation neared completion. Soon, the Otto they knew was no longer with them, having been forced to the darkest, furthest corner of the werewolf's mind and before them stood a massive, fierce, _hungry,_ full-grown werewolf. His piercing green eyes darted between Mina and Jekyll. He crouched, his powerful nose taking in the scents of the room and the two League members. His gaze stopped on Mina. _Vampire… _He lunged, only to be violently stopped by the restraints. With a roar of frustration, the werewolf pulled against the chains, extending them to their limit. He had only one thought on his mind – _Feed…_

* * *

Cabrilyn sat in her room – bored out of her mind. There wasn't a whole lot she could do on her own – she couldn't read a book, and she certainly couldn't sketch. She hated the feeling of uselessness that accompanied her blindness – not to mention the loneliness. Especially now since Tom was off hunting werewolves, Davis was hiding somewhere, Mina and Jekyll had just disappeared, and she wasn't sure of what had become of the others… A knock on the door jolted her out of her stupor. _'At last,' _she thought, _'Some company.'_ "Come in," she said, not really caring who it was, just so long as she would have someone to talk to.

The door swung open and in came Skinner, Mortie's piece of paper in hand. He bore no greasepaint on his face, but it mattered not to Cabrilyn – who could not see him regardless. He still had mixed emotions about the previous night's events, and wished to conceal that from everyone else. "What are you doing cooped up in here?" He asked. "It's a beautiful night." She merely smiled, but inwardly she had to fight back her urge to ask Skinner if he'd heard from this Mortie of his. Skinner caught the look of anxiousness on her face – it reminded him of why he had come. "I've got something for you," he said, sliding the paper into her hand.

Running her hands over the paper, Cabrilyn cocked her head. "And what is this?" She asked. The paper felt worn, and wrinkled, and it had been torn in half. It seemed a very strange thing for Skinner to give her.

With a smile, the gentleman thief replied, "_That _is the address to your parents' home." Cabrilyn looked as though she might burst into tears of joy. She stood, meaning to locate Skinner and give him a hug. The moment was stopped before it had even started by a monstrous, guttural roar piercing the otherwise quiet night.

Skinner rushed to the window – the sound had come from the Nautilus. He glanced back at the wall just to his right – on it hung Cabrilyn's twin swords, dormant since the battle at Reed's fortress. Pausing for a moment, he then snatched one of the blades from its hanging place. He would need it…

* * *

No sound had been more frightening to Mina and Jekyll than that of the chains splitting in two. The newly freed werewolf practically laughed at having finally beaten the chains. The beast, its brief celebration over, sprung at its former guards. Luckily, Mina's vampire reflexes kicked in, and she seized Jekyll by the arm and leapt free of the oncoming onslaught of teeth and claws. At this point, Nemo came bursting into the room, followed closely by a dozen fully armed crewmen. The werewolf stared at them. The captain merely drew his sword.

"Captain!" Jekyll shouted. Nemo shot him a fleeting glance, but nothing more. There was a monster loose on his Lady, and that he would not allow. As far as he was concerned, the beast would not leave this room alive.

The werewolf snorted, seemingly intrigued by the fearless Indian – this would be a fun hunt indeed. It crouched, making ready to start this hunt. The thick, stalwart muscles in its legs tensed… Suddenly, a bunch of bats flew into the creatures face, catching him off guard and taking his attention from Nemo.

As Mina's bats bought them time, Jekyll ran to the captain fervently repeating, "Don't kill him!"

"Doctor! Have you gone mad?" Nemo said sternly. "Protecting a monster such as this?"

"It's Otto!"

Those two words threw the werewolf into a different perspective for Nemo… Still, there was a risk to his Lady, and his crew – this beast _would_ _not_ harm either, and if it came down to it, killing was not out of the question for the captain.

Unleashing another roar of frustration, the werewolf swatted his way free of the bats and came barreling strait for the door. Nemo hauled Jekyll out of the way, and the crewman jumped to avoid the livid beast. Before any of them could gain their bearings again, the monster that had once been Otto had disappeared.

* * *

Milo McRiley prided himself on being an ingenious inventor… It seemed nearly everything he touched just worked, and brilliantly so. He once had friends, but he chose not to dwell on his memories of them – they were not good ones. He much preferred the company of machined than that of humans. He loved his work, his inventions – in fact, he had become _so _fixated with them that his sanity was teetering on the edge of a knife, but, like many on the brink of insanity, he remained blissfully unaware of the fact.

Now, as the full moon dipped low – seemingly peering into McRiley's window to watch the mad Irishman, Milo McRiley's world was shaken apart. The door was flung off its hinges, smashing various inventions as it crashed into the wall, splintering on impact. The hulking form of the werewolf loomed at the door for a moment, but only a moment. It knew there was a man in this desolate, one-room apartment – he was food, and nothing more.

Giving practically no thought to McRiley's prized inventions as he knocked them from tables, or crushed them under his massive clawed feet. Hunger was driving him now… The frightened man had seized what inventions he could carry and cowered in a corner of the ill-lit room.

The sudden crack of gunfire shook the cowering inventor further, especially as the werewolf roared and wheeled around, blood seeping from its left shoulder. Sawyer lowered his rifle and squarely met the monster's eyes. He was rather shocked to find something familiar in them… something almost human… The werewolf let out a low, menacing growl, snapping the young American back to the task at hand. Human or not, innocent people would die if he didn't put an end to this beast here and now…

Sawyer cocked the Winchester and took his aim…

* * *

A/N: Another cliffie! I know, I'm mean like that! ::cackles in evil-type way:: 


	8. To The Rescue

A/N: Here we are. Chapter 8. I'm feeling too lazy to type any author thank-you's, so here's one big **THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING! **There. Saves time _and _space. XD

* * *

"Otto?" Skinner could hardly believe his ears. He had come rushing to the Nautilus, sword in hand, only to be met with the news that Otto – the very same Otto that Tom had found in the alley weeping over his dead sister… the very same Otto that had found Cabrilyn's parents – was a werewolf. He stood there listening to Mina and Jekyll's explanation, Cabrilyn's sword still grasped rather awkwardly in his hand – Skinner was no swordsman that was evident. After the initial shock of his discovery had worn off, he was finally able to piece together a sentence from his jumbled thoughts, "Where did he go?"

Mina, Jekyll and Nemo exchanged glances that said the same thing: I don't know.

The gentleman thief looked at his three comrades and sighed, "I suppose this is the part where we split up and start searching, isn't it?"

* * *

The werewolf looked at Tom, its mouth beginning to slaver. It was hungry… the gun seemed only an afterthought to him, if it was on his mind at all. He saw the young American not as a danger, but as a meal… Meanwhile, Milo McRiley still sat huddled in a dark corner, an odd mixture of fear and anger and insanity bombarding his mind.

Tom was just about to pull the trigger when he met the monster's eyes again… they looked so _familiar… _That minute pause was all that the werewolf needed. He lunged, violently tearing the rifle from Sawyer's grip, making to sink his teeth into the American's neck when a sharp, white-hot pain seared through his side. The beast reeled around, forgetting Tom all together. At first the werewolf was baffled… his sense of smell told him there was someone there, but his eyes told him otherwise.

Skinner gingerly set Cabrilyn's sword on the floor, and as quietly as he could, crept over to Tom, hoping he would reach the American before the American reached his rifle. Unfortunately for him, the werewolf trusted its nose more than its eyes, and Tom had already located the now beat-up Winchester.

In a single moment, three things happened – Hyde came barreling into the apartment, pushing past Tom and driving the werewolf out the window. Tom misfired, missing both Skinner and McRiley by mere inches. And Skinner stumbled back, slicing his bare foot open on Cabrilyn's sword – the very sword he'd used to stab the werewolf.

"Holy!" Skinner shouted, followed by a wave of cursing.

"Skinner? What are you doing here?" Tom demanded.

Gingerly, the gentleman thief hopped over to the small rickety cot the served as McRiley's bed, still cursing under his breath. "I'm here to stop you from shooting the damn thing," he fumed. The sounds of Hyde and the werewolf struggling echoed in the distance.

"Stop… wha… why?" Tom could hardly believe that Skinner would come rushing in here in the defense of a _werewolf._

"Because," the gentleman thief replied, "that beast out there is Otto." Tom didn't respond – he was dumbfounded to say the least. Otto? A werewolf? "Sawyer," Skinner winced, seizing Tom's attention. "Give me a hand, would you?" He paused and waited for tom to realize that he was injured, but then Skinner remembered there was no way Tom could _see_ he was injured. "I think I've cut my foot."

After retrieving his rifle and Cabrilyn's sword from the floor, Tom helped Skinner off of the cot and the pair lest through what at one time resembled a doorway.

Unbeknownst to them, during this entire ordeal, Milo McRiley had finally lost his sanity, and, with the passion of a madman, he swore that he would exact his revenge on the beast… he swore that he would tame it.

* * *

The dawn swept through the sky like a wildfire, staining the clouds all shades of red and orange. In a small, cramped alley between the apartment buildings, amongst various upturned trashcans, Henry Jekyll emerged. He had claw marks on his chest, and he was covered in sweat. Behind him, the trashcans rattled and rolled away to reveal Otto crawling out from their midst. He was favoring his left shoulder, and Mina's bats hat left scratches on his face. His wrists and ankles were bruised from fighting the shackles.

The youth looked up at the doctor, his green eyes wide. "Doctor, I didn't… hurt… anyone… did I?"

Jekyll shook his head weakly. "No," he replied, there was a hint of relief in his voice. "And neither did I." He helped Otto to his feet. "Quite a pair, aren't we?" Jekyll commented. Otto smiled and nodded. "Come on, let's get you back so I can fix you up."

Otto raised an eyebrow. "It looks like we both could use some fixing up."

* * *

"So when were you all planning to tell me that Otto was the werewolf?" Tom fumed.

Jekyll did not so much as look up from his rather difficult task of mending Skinner's foot. The gentleman thief winced and inhaled sharply.

"Doctor," Tom said, demanding attention.

The doctor shrugged. "How would you have reacted?" Tom didn't respond, so Jekyll continued. "You were so bent on killing it…"

The words escaped Tom's mouth before he could stop them, "For crying out loud! It's a murdering monster!"

It was then that Jekyll looked up, meeting Tom square in the eyes, "Just as _I_ am a murdering monster? Would you have been so quick to kill me?"

Tom wasn't sure how to respond. Would he?

Jekyll went back to his work, and Skinner stifled another wince, desperate to stay out of this conversation.

After a moment of thought, Tom plodded out of the room. He needed to go for a walk. Jekyll's words pounded in his head. He exited the Gray Manor and headed for the docks. He just stood there, staring at his own reflection in the water. What was wrong with him? He'd been so rash lately. A lone raindrop fell, distorting Tom's reflection for a brief moment before it was lost completely in the sudden downpour. With a sigh, Tom turned to go back to the house when something caught his eye – a person was standing at the corner of the building.

Mortie knew she'd been spotted. Tom was already making his way over to her, and she decided it would be best if she stayed put. "Hello Mr. Sawyer," she said casually.

"Hello, Miss Olin," Tom replied, matching her tone. He was resigned to the fact that she wouldn't stop calling him 'Mr. Sawyer' no matter how much he asked. "What brings you to our door?"

"And, what business is it of yours?" Mortie replied coolly.

Tom arched a brow. "Playing twenty questions?" He asked with a small grin. Mortie felt her cheeks flush, and she grinned back in spite of herself.

"Perhaps," she replied coyly. She couldn't believe herself. She was _flirting_ with him! This conversation needed to end… now. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Sawyer…" she began, turning to leave.

"Leaving so soon?"

At the sound of the voice, Tom visibly cringed. Dorian was back.

"Don't be rude, Agent Sawyer," Dorian said smugly. "Introduce me to your friend."

* * *

Skinner hobbled up the stairs on a set of makeshift crutches, his right foot heavily bandaged. He just needed to go to bed. Cabrilyn was at the top of the stairs, having heard someone coming. "Which one are you?" She asked.

"Which one am I?" Skinner responded dryly. "I'm the poor misfortunate one that always ends up maimed in some way shape or form." He sighed. "I really need to stop rushing into things."

"What happened?" Cabrilyn asked, holding out her hand, trying to locate the invisible man. She felt the slick leather of the collar his coat, and she put her hand in his shoulder. In truth, Skinner was a little embarrassed to tell her what happened. "Well?" She prodded.

The gentleman thief gimped into his room, Cabrilyn following, still wanting an answer. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course."

"I… stepped on your sword."

Cabrilyn looked incredulous. "You _stepped_ on my _sword?"_

"Yes, and why don't you say it a little louder next time?" Skinner spat. He plopped down on the edge of his bed, nursing his foot. It had not been a good evening for him. Cabrilyn felt her way to the edge of the bed and sat down next to Skinner.

"Rough night?" She asked gently.

Skinner sighed. "You don't know the half of it."

* * *

A/N: Another chapter under wraps… and things are just getting interesting. 


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